


Delphini Riddle

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Delphini is a Tomarry shipper, Delphini out here disowning her mother, Harry Potter is a Horcrux, Harrymort - Freeform, Implied Mpreg, Multi, Not Beta Read, Obsessive Tom Riddle, Possessive Voldemort, Time Travel, We die like illiterates here, lets be real here who isn’t obsessed with Harry Potter, obsessive Delphini
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:13:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26307619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Delphini is nine years old when she decides Bellatrix Lestrange isn’t her mother anymore, Harry Potter is.
Relationships: Delphi & Harry Potter, Delphi & Voldemort (Harry Potter), Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Harry Potter/Voldemort
Comments: 404
Kudos: 1591
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

Delphini was a disturbed child.

She knows that.

Delphini knows she's not normal, even compared to most magical children.

Yet there was one person, one person that didn't flinch away from her when she accidentally spoke parseltongue.

One person that still showed her the utmost care and compassion.

No matter who her parents were...

Harry Potter.

Delphini rememberers when she first met the man, remember how he helped her up and cleaned her stuff bunny.

He smiled at her, a real genuine smile that showed off his pearly white teeth.

Pretty.

Harry has pretty skin, pretty hair, pretty eyes.

There was something so soft and pretty about the man that delphini found herself hoping her mother was as nice and pretty as Harry Potter.

________________________

That dream was short-lived.

Delphini was nine years old when she met her mother.

Not her actual mother, for the woman, was died (Thank Merlin).

But a portrait of her, a horrible awful picture. Bellatrix isn't soft, not in the slightest. She's load and cruel.

Crazy...

Her mother lost her mind, so far gone Delphini isn't too sure she ever had it to begin with.

The portrait would make fake cooing noises, praising her whenever she displays strong bursts of magic or spoke parselmouth, her father's tongue, the language of her ancestors.

It was in that moment that Delphini realizes that this woman doesn't love her, she just loves who her father is.

She loves her legacy.

Bellatrix might have been pretty once, but she isn't soft. She isn't lovely like Harry.

Delphini is nine years old when she decides Bellatrix Lestrange wasn't her mother anymore, Harry Potter is.

_____________________

Her father was perfect.

Everything she ever imagines him being and more.

Voldemort is smart, serious, gentle with the people he cares about, and scary. Very scary.

Though that's to be expected, he is a dark lord.

The portrait of her father was perhaps Delphini's favorite present Rowle ever give her.

It never bothered Delphini that her father looked more snake than man, he treated her much better then Bellatrix did.

Much better then most people treat her.

He told her about his childhood, about becoming the dark lord he's known as, about the war, his Horcruxes, and most importantly Harry.

Harry Potter, her self proclaimed mother.

How did her father, the smartest, powerful man alive not realize Harry was basically his soulmate?

Star-cross lovers.

They were simply meant to be, how Bellatrix come into the picture was beyond Delphini.

Delphini Riddle was eleven years old when she decided to change the past.

To save her father.

But most importantly, to get her father to see that he should be bedding Harry Potter. Not, Bellatrix Lestrange.

She's going to get her parents together.

__________________________

It was so easy to get Albus to hand her the time turner, he trusts her.

He thought Delphini was on his side, that she'll just destroy the device, destroy the one chance to get her parents together.

She'll miss Albus, and a small part of her will feel his absence.

But Delphini wants this more then she likes Albus, she doesn't mind sacrificing a few friends to get want she wants.

It doesn't matter, Dad and mom will give me new actual siblings.

For as much as she considers Albus her brother, he only saw her as a friend.

He didn't know...

He didn't understand why Voldemort's daughter was so desperate to cling off him and his siblings, why she so desperately cling off his father.

He didn't know, and now he never will.

___________________________

June 6, 1996

Everyone felt the twist of magic, it was strong, so powerful, you'd have to be an incompetent Muggle to not notice

Voldemort studies his inner circle, satisfied with how everyone held themselves together.

Calm.

Cool.

Collected.

And dangerous.

This was why they are considered the elite, the best of the best, model death eaters.

Slytherins to the very core.

Lesser wizards would cower at such friction of magic, he could practically taste the magic in the air, feel the shift in time.

Time magic.

A rare branch of magic, but not unheard of. It takes a skilled magician to perform such a spell.

Voldemort raises, he knows when magic is calling him when it wants him to follow.

"My lord," Severus Snape stands but doesn't move, mindful, he knows how to tread lightly. "Is it wise to go alone."

Wise. "Are you questioning my wisdom?" Voldemort drawls lightly.

Snape wears a mask of indifference but Voldemort can tell he's nervous, by the way, his back stiffens, how his wand hand twitches.

Good, he should be.

There where few things that bring him more pleasure than seeing others cower before him.

"Never my lord, your knowledge is above all understanding." How florally, it's unlike the potion's master to lay it on so thick. It's unnerving, desperate even.

Dumbledore's dog.

"You'll do well to remember that."

Voldemort took one last look at his inner circle.

Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Severus Snape, Avery, and Nott

They sat like stone statues, ice sculptures, all but Belle who vibrated In her seat. Never able to just sit still even if her life depended on it.

they'd wait there until he got back. Without moving an inch.

They're dedicated like that.

He was tempted to make them wait there all evening, until the early morning, but he decided to be merciful. "You're dismissed for today."

_________________________

His feet guided him like he was going somewhere from muscle memory. Voldemort can feel the magic calling him forward, directing his steps.

He's close.

So close.

He can feel it in his bones, in the air around him, in his fingertips.

Here.

In one of Malfoy's many rose gardens. To the naked eye, everything appears normal, the white gazebo is in pristine like it hasn't been there for the past ten generations, and there wasn't a petal out of place.

But he knows.

He can sense the electric pulses of power shooting around him.

One thing was very clear, whoever was traveling through time was coming for him.

Are they friend or foe?

The atmosphere warps around Voldemort, disorienting the peaceful garden.

He draws his wand, ready to strike if necessary.

Voldemort tries to think who could be coming, why someone was coming. There were so many possibilities, good and bad.

But the dark lord was not expecting for a little girl to manifest right before him.

A little girl around the age of five, with silvery-white hair, and watery brown eyes.

The magic around the pair sparks to life, humming pleasantly, and for a moment Voldemort was speechless.

This... this was unexpected.

The little girl was obviously the time traveler, the intricate rune time-tuner in her hand is just unnecessary evidence.

The child tries to wipe away the tears that started leaking from her eyes. She looks at Voldemort stunned but unafraid, with wet starry eyes, like she's been waiting for this day her whole life.

No one has ever looked at Voldemort like that, like he's their saving grace, with complete trust, and love.

Because that's what that look is, he's not blind, he's seen that look before.

**_"Papa!"_** She cries, in a language that only two other people can speak.

She hugs him.

She ran to the dark lord and hugs him. Clinging on him for dear life.

His daughter...

It's unbelievable, Voldemort never planned on having children. The thought never crossed his mind, not even once.

But it makes so much sense, why shouldn't he the most powerful dark lord of all time not have an heir.

A child to help nurture and pass on his knowledge.

A family.

There was once a time Tom Riddle wanted a family, he wanted parents, or distant relative, something, someone to call his own.

That night he murders his father and grandparents he thought that want was a dead dream. A foolish desire that could never come true.

A child.

That's why magic was urging him here, why his magic hums so happily.

His magic recognizes his daughter.

His daughter can speak parselmouth and shares so many features with himself.

His daughter, his family.

Voldemort bends down, picking up the little girl that was clinging to his pant leg. She didn't hesitate to wrap her little arms around his neck, snuggling closer.

"Papa..."

"Shh, it's going to be alright child."

Voldemort doesn't know why his future child is here. why she's crying, or how long she stay will be.

If her stay is permanent.

But Voldemort does know, is that he'll kill anyone who tries to hurt her.


	2. Chapter 2

Delphini couldn’t believe she’s here, in her father’s arms. She dreamt of this moment her whole life, longed for it. But nothing she pictured could ever compare to the real thing.

A part of her was afraid, afraid he’d reject her like so many people have.

She was afraid he’d scowl, sneer, or even flat out ignore her like everyone else did.

Everyone besides Harry.

But he didn’t, Voldemort cradle her in his arms like she was precious.

Someone worth caring for.

He rubbed soothing patterns along her back and whispered comforting words.

And she’s crying, crying because this is everything she’s ever wanted. She nuzzles her face in her father’s neck enjoying his presence, for a dark lord he was extremely gentle.

It made her feel warm and fuzzy.

Safe.

Voldemort, a brutal uncaring snake-like man is soft and gentle with her.

It made Delphini feel special.

He carries her across the courtyard with a firm and steady grip.

Any other day Delphini would of admire Malfoy’s garden, she always did enjoy pretty things. (Much to Rowle’s disbelief.)

It always bewildered people how she’d rather have tea parties and make flower crowns then go around torturing small animals or have a creepy doll head collection like Bellatrix once had.

She likes her dolls in intact, thank you very much!

Only Harry seemed to understand that she was not her parents.

Any other day she would of admire the rose garden. But it wasn’t just any other day, today Delphini Riddle met her father for the first time and she wanted to remain in this wonderful moment for as long as possible.

______________________

“This will tingle just a little bit.” Delphini never actually met her aunt Narcissa, never had the desire to meet her.

She was only related to her through that woman. But Narcissa is completely different than Bellatrix, polar opposites. While Bellatrix is wild and boorish, Narcissa is regal and nurturing.

A true lady.

It’s admirable, but nothing compared to her Harry.

She watches the woman perform a vast array of diagnostic spells while Delphini sits comfortably on her father’s lap.

It did tingle just a little bit and her child body lets out a startled giggle.

“She appears to be fine my lord, just magically exhausted,” Narcissa says after a few minutes of heavy spell work. “That was a lot of magic even for a normal adult wizard, we’ll have to keep an eye on her magic core to make sure there isn’t any lasting damage.”

Her father hums while patting her head. “Is there any way to ensure her core will recover?”

Narcissa watches Voldemort pet her head, her eyes follow her father’s hands in what looks like morbid fascination. “Yes... there are a few potions she can take. I’ll have Severus make them immediately.”

“See to it that the reason remains a mystery, this is a delicate matter that I want to keep private for the time being.”

“Of course,” Narcissa lingers, thinking carefully of her next choice of words. “And what of the child’s mother?”

Delphini stiffens, prying, hoping Bellatrix wasn’t in the picture yet.

She doesn’t know much about their relationship, or if they were even in love for that matter. But Delphini highly doubts the woman would just let her father walk away without a fight.

“I have a few ideas.”

What does that even mean?

How many people could he possibly be sleeping with? Or is he just trying to be ambiguous...

Whatever the case may be, it would make it significantly harder to get dad to see Harry is his soulmate if he knew Bellatrix was her mother.

It might even encourage their affair...

That can NOT happen.

_______________________________

“Delphini,” her father gently sits her on the desk, looking at her intently. She can feel a subtle push on her Occlumency shields, it was a soft nudge, barely there. “What has prompted your visit.”

Visit.

This wasn’t a visit, what she’s doing would hopefully prevent her birth. She wouldn’t exist in this future and her timeline will be gone.

There is no place for her to return to.

But that’s fine, Delphini had no intentions on returning even if she could. This was always meant to be a one-way trip.

Delphini looks at her hands, so much smaller then what she’s used to seeing.

Starting all over again is worth it.

She’ll finally get to grow up with her parents.

She’ll finally be able to spend time with her dad, her real dad not some magic portrait. And best of all Delphini won’t have to share Harry with Teddy, James, Albus, Lily, or _Ginny_!

She carefully thinks over her words, haft truths, or clueless that’s how Delphini intents to play this game.

It’s better to be vague and let his mind fill in the blanks then makeup an overly complicated lie that she couldn’t remember.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” Delphini feels her throat tighten with emotion.

She doesn’t want to be alone anymore, she sick of being an outsider looking in. She sick of everyone treating her like the plague, and she’s sick of everyone trying to take her away from the one person who doesn’t.

Delphini just wants to be loved.

Voldemort lifts her chin his red eyes searching through her heart, mind, and soul.

He wants to rip through her mind, to watch every memory, see every moment of her life until now.

But Voldemort won’t be able to without hurting her, that’s probably why he hasn’t tried breaking her shields.

At least she can count on that for the time being.

“Why are you alone?” Delphini tries to blink away her tears, the last thing she want’s is Voldemort to think her a cry baby.

She doesn’t want to be emotional, doesn’t want him to think of her as a nuisance.

But he’s here, her long-dead father is here in the flesh! So maybe, maybe this once she can cry.

“Your gone Papa... and they keep trying to take me away from mama.”

Voldemort smoothed his thumb around the rim of her eye, catching falling tears. His face is unreadable, a perfect mask of indifference. Delphini would give anything to know what he’s thinking.

But her Legilimency has never been as good as her Occlumency skills, her technique is clumsy and forceful.

He’d know immediately if she tried it and Delphini highly doubts she’d be able to break through Voldemort’s shields anyway.

“And who is your mother?”

____________________________

_“Your gone Papa...”_

Something unpleasant coils in Voldemort’s stomach, it’s bitter and angry.

It’s violent.

Potter, it has to be Potter. Nobody else could destroy him as Potter can, nobody else could take over his mind and control his thoughts and movements like Potter can.

Harry Potter is like a drug, an infectious disease.

Something you know is bad for you, but can’t get enough of.

The thought of dying doesn’t scare him as it did in his youth, thou he’d rather not die. No, Voldemort finds his more bothered by the thought of Potter continuing living, while he rots away in some nameless grave.

What purpose does Potter have? What right does the boy have to continue living while Voldemort is dead?

The dark lord would prefer Harry dying with him.

Dying at each other’s hand, Voldemort being the last person he’ll see before the light flickers out of his emerald orbs, And Harry being the last face the dark lord sees before going to the other side.

It’s poetic.

Harry wouldn’t/shouldn’t live a day without Voldemort being alive.

_________________________________

_“And who is your mother?”_

Delphini looks down at the desk, noticing a copy of the daily prophet neatly folded on top of a stack of papers.

An idea, a stupidly brilliant idea pops in her head. She couldn’t fight the grin that was spreading across her face, a smile so big that her cheeks turned rosy and her dimples are showing.

Harry always said she has the cutest smile.

“That’s my Mama!” Delphini says proudly, pointing at the picture moving on the front page.

Her father glances down at the daily prophet, for a singular moment his mask falls wearing an almost flabbergasted expression.

Voldemort picks up the paper, studying the picture of Harry Potter for a full minute before showing it to her again. “This is your mother?”

“Yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Delphini really said “Bellatrix we don’t know her“ at the end😂😂


	3. Chapter 3

Draco swallows thickly, he wants to cower behind his mother and father like a child.

Honestly, He wants to be anywhere besides here, under the dark lord seething red glare.

Draco always admires how his parent’s seemed so unafraid, almost Gryffindor like around snake-like man.

His mother stood next to Draco, unbothered by the glare, and all-knowing. Knowing what exactly the blond doesn’t know... but she knows something!

His father on the other hand who was a tab more cowardly and had an extremely low pain tolerance, but still he stood tall in front of the dark lord.

Lucius Malfoy doesn’t let fear control his life and that trait is remarkable in itself.

That trait is something Draco didn’t inherit, even though at times he desperately wished he did.

Instead, he’s here, shaking like a leaf in front of their lord.

A man his family has served for generations.

Embarrassing, but could anyone blame him he’s terrified?

“I don’t want a single hair out of place,” Voldemort says slowly, each word a little more stressed than the last. “Any spell you used to harm him I will repay the favor tenfold, have I made myself clear.”

Draco nods vigorously, he has no idea what’s happening or why the dark lord wants Potter here unharmed but he’s not about to question him.

__________________________________

Harry looks at the letter like it might explode any second, like it’s a slimy flobberworm flopping around on his desk.

Not once in the five years, he’s known Malfoy has the blond git ever tried to send him a letter.

Why would he? Unless he was sending a hex or telling Harry how much he hates him.

But this letter was neither, it was asking Harry to come over... like Lucius didn’t try attacking him not even a month ago.

Like Bellatrix, Malfoy’s aunt didn’t kill Sirius.

Potter, why don’t you come over for a game of quidditch.

It was short and curt and totally uninspiring.

What made Malfoy think Harry could possibly want to spend a day playing quidditch with him?

It’s a trap, it has to be.

And Harry, as stupid and reckless as he is, refuses to fall for it.

____________________________________

Harry wishes he could say that was the one and only time that happened.

It wasn’t, in fact, it was only the beginning.

Every other day.

Malfoy sent a letter every other day, at the most inconvenient times!

It was driving him crazy, it was driving the Dursley’s crazy, and it was driving Ron crazy!

“Another one?” Ron huffs childishly, Harry was talking to his two friends on the house phone. It’s a new thing he’s been doing, calling Hermione whenever the Dursley’s leave for long periods of time.

Today Ron just so happens to be over at her house, His heart squeezed at the reminder that Ron and Hermione can see each other whenever they want while he was stuck here.

At the Dursley’s.

The roots of his hair still hurt from when uncle Vermon dragged him down the stairs this morning.

“You racking he’s being forced to do it?”

“Oh definitely,” Harry says while washing the dishes. “I highly doubt he wants me to come over for a spot of tea.”

“Maybe you should answer him...” Hermione adds, “Just to feel it out.”

“I don’t need to feel it out I know this has something to with Voldemort,” Harry scrubs the crockpot harder than necessary, feeling a rush of emotions fall over him.

Some are his, others... not so much.

“He’s been very... feel-ly recently.”

He hears Ron snorts in disbelief, not that Harry blames him. It sounds ridiculous. “What type of feelings...” Hermione asks worriedly.

“I don’t know, their mostly indescribable but sometimes... sometimes I think he’s happy.” And isn’t that thought frightening? Anything Voldemort is happy about couldn’t be good news for him... or anyone for that matter.

“Bloody hell!”

Hermione sighs like she hasn’t slept in a hundred years. “Just be careful Harry.”

An annoying tapping on the kitchen window captures Harry's attention, it wasn’t hard to recognize Malfoy’s gunmetal gray owl aggressively tapping with such force the-boy-who-lived worried it will creak the window.

An aggravated groan escapes his lips, followed by a tight frown. “Hermione, how do I politely tell someone to fuck off?”

____________________________________

It happened a few days after that. In retrospect, Harry should have known better than to write.

I think the fuck not, Malfoy.

But he did and in the spur of the moment it felt good, really good, an overwhelming satisfaction rolled in his stomach as Harry watches the gray owl fly away.

So much so that he’s sure Voldemort could feel it too.

That’s probably what doomed him because not even three days later Harry ran into Draco Malfoy at a muggle supermarket.

Harry was grazing through the quick bakesection when Malfoy casually bumps into him, like its completely natural for the pureblood git to be here.

“Oh, hello Potter.” Draco drawls while looking around with mild interest and disdain. This must be like walking into a different dimension for the blond.

“What are you doing here?” There’s something so wrong with this picture and if his fight or flight instincts weren’t kicking in Harry might have thought the scene comical.

“Shopping, why else would I be here?” Draco sneers, though if it was at him or just that thought of shopping someplace muggles shops at Harry isn’t too sure.

The blond waves a bag of marshmallows in his face, as if he needs farther proof to convince him.

Still, Harry wasn’t convinced in the slightest.

The-boy-who-lives glance behind Draco to find Lucius Malfoy cowering before The tall, gray robot with gigantic googly eyes named “Marty” that usually moves around the store unassisted.

It was a sight to behold.

A sight that Harry is feeling wearier and wearier about.

Why is the Malfoy’s at Giant?

“Well,” Harry says while slowly backing away. “This has been lovely, truly, but I just remembered I left scones in the oven. I really must be going.”

He turns around only to come face to face with Narcissa Malfoy, holding what appears to be a bouquet of baby pink roses.

“That’s a shame, Mr. Potter, I’d love for you to company us for dinner.”

Harry would love nothing more than to not accompany them, Harry just wants to go back to the Dursley’s, and maybe wiggle himself into the cupboard under the stairs to have a good old fashion panic attack.

“Maybe some other time.”

Lucius decides to join his family, almost completely caging Harry in.

This is bad, very bad!

His heart pounds anxiously in his chest, twisting, and turning painfully.

Harry made a split-second decision to run. To run and to get far, far away. He jumped behind a display of beans, just barely missing a curse flying his way.

People started screaming, babies cried, and phones flashing.

“What’s happening?”

“Are they filming a movie?”

Random curses was shot rapidly, not caring what or who it hits. The-boy-who-lived desperately wished he had a wand.

“Wow, these effects are amazing!”

He continued to run, he danced around Muggles and knocked down displays ruining month's worth of food.

Harry was so close to the exit, just steps away when Narcissa caught him, knocking Harry out with a sleeping spell.

____________________________________

Harry wakes up in a parlor.

Not in a dungeon or some kind of torture chamber but a sitting room. Voldemort was sitting across from him on a rich brown loveseat sipping a cuppa with a little girl nested comfortably on his lap.

A little girl with silvery blond hair done up in big bottle curls. She’s wearing an old fashion lavender dress trimmed in lace and ribbon.

The first thought that popped into Harry’s head was ‘A princess.’

she looks like a little princess cuddling with a monster.

What on earth is going on?

Her dark eyes were sparkling as she looks at Harry, positively glowing. There was something about the girl that reminded him of Tom Riddle.

Not that Voldemort has ever been happy to see him, but still. As she looks at Harry like he hung the moon and stars in the night sky there was something so undeniably Voldemort it made Harry’s breath stutter painfully.

She goes to move, like the girl is just dying to leap out of Voldemort’s arms and into Harry’s but the snake-like man tightens his grip and sends her a chastising look.

And she... she begrudgingly withers like a wounded puppy.

‘Am I hallucinating?’

Is this some kind of drug-induced dream?

Something about the pair was so domestic, and Harry doesn’t know how to handle this. What to do with himself.

“Harry,” Voldemort starts in a smooth tone, he elegantly places his cup on its matching saucer with a soft clicking noise. “I’m sure you have a few questions.”

A few? He has more than a few! Something about this whole experience is odd, and uncomfortably.

Voldemort is looking at him, that isn’t unusually whenever they’re in the same room Harry always had the dark lord’s full attention (unfortunately) but something about this is different.

It’s like Voldemort was seeing Harry in a new light.

“Are you going to kill me?” Harry blurts out. That’s a safe question, something he’s used to.

A part of Harry is hoping he’ll say yes.

Voldemort chuckles under his breath “Not today.”

Is he... is he joking? The dark lord having a jolly good laugh with his sworn enemy?

Harry glances down at the little girl again who continues to look at him with such longing it’s surreal.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed we have company—“are you kidnapping children now?”

Voldemort sends him a seedy look, his scar springs to life for a single long minute. The pain burned like molting lava, sharp like being cut by a knife, and a chilling numbness that made his bones rattle.

It lasted for sixty seconds, it was there and then gone in the same breath. That’s when Harry realizes that Voldemort is controlling himself, he’s actually trying not to hurt Harry even through second-hand means like their weird psychic connection.

It’s astonishing...

“No,” Voldemort says thinly “This is Delphini Riddle.”

Harry’s jaw dropped, mind coming to a complete standstill.

Delphini Riddle!

Harry had a feeling that she was his daughter, like in a six sense sort of way.

But Harry didn’t actually think it was possible!

How did he manage—who did he manage—why would anyone want to— what?!

And if that wasn’t shocking enough the man had to continue with “She’s our daughter.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Our?

Our!

As in them together? Like Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter?

Voldemort nods, taking a long sip of his cup of tea before answering. “She’s from the future.”

Because that makes so much sense! Said no one ever.

“I’m pretty sure that’s impossible.” Harry states, feel utterly dumbfound.

How-why is this his life?

The corners of Voldemort’s thin lips tugged downward into a small frown. “I assure you this is very real, Delphini is from the future.”

“That’s not what I’m doubting! How can she our daughter?”

Voldemort blinks slowly like Harry’s the idiot here. “Because she came from us...”

“How?”

“Oh, Harry—“No I’m being serious, how is this supposed to work!”

“Like how any normal pregnancy works,” Voldemort drawls. “My sperm penetrates your egg. The fertilized egg then travels the womb, where it implants itself in the uterine wall. That later forms a fetus and the placenta.”

Harry felt his eye twitch. “See there’s the problem, actually there’s a whole laundry list of problems but I’m going to start with the most glaring one at the moment.” Honestly the fact that Harry is the only one that sees the many—many problems with this is borderline concerning. “I couldn’t possibly have given birth to her, I don’t have a vagina!”

And Voldemort had the audacity to still look at Harry like he was the mental one!

“Harry there are male wizards that can give birth.” Yep, that’s hysteria settling in.

Voldemort leans back into the sofa, completely relaxed. “Not all wizards of course, but enough that it isn’t unheard of. In fact, about 20% of births each year are from male pregnancies.”

How is it that Harry fails to know even the most common knowledge when it comes to the wizarding world?

Does Hermione know about this?

There really should be some form of magical health class, how do they expect Muggleborns to just know this?

“That— that doesn’t mean I can!” Harry says, cheeks burning red.

Even if he can, that doesn’t mean he would procreate with the man who killed his parents!

Voldemort looks at him(or more explicitly) his blushing face, the dark lord’s head tilts in bemused curiosity. “Isn’t Delphini proof enough?”

“She looks nothing like me,” Harry states weakly because really she doesn’t.

She looks like Tom Riddle.

He knows not to judge, at first glance Harry looks like his Dad James, but the longer you're with him you start seeing more of Lily’s features shining through like her button nose and heart shape face.

Her unfortunate height. Unfortunately.

Maybe he’s judging to soon but Harry doesn’t see himself in Delphini.

“No, but she has a lot of resemblance to your great aunt Gloria Potter. Genetics are unpredictable, your child doesn’t always look like you.”

“Mama...”

Harry glances down at the child, she looks incredibly anxious fidgeting on her father’s lap. “Are you mad at Delphini?”

One look, it took one look at her dark watery brown eyes to know he was fighting a losing battle.

Delphini escapes her father’s hold, running up to Harry as fast as her little legs can and places her head on his lap.

“Delphini’s really-really sorry.”

Voldemort shouldn’t legally be allowed to have a daughter this cute, his heart squeezes at the sight.

‘Technically this is your child too.’ A little voice in his head supplies.

“No-no I’m not mad,” Harry quickly picks the girl up, cradling her close. “I’m just... confused that’s all.”

Confused doesn’t even begin to unravel all these chaotic emotions rushing through him.

Delphini hugs him tightly, burying her nose in his chest. She rubs her head against the-boy-who-lived and made a noise that vaguely reminded Harry of Mrs. Figg’s cats.

It’s adorable, and in a spare of a moment, he bends and placed a quick kiss on the top of her head.

Delphini gasps loudly, pure delight twinkling in her eyes, and her cheeks turned an endearing shade of pink.

“Do that again!” She demands. Harry, feeling absolutely bewildered followed her command on autopilot. Much too Delphini’s utter glee.

Harry chances a glance at Voldemort, wondering what the dark lord could be thinking to find the nightmare-inducing man smiling softly at the pair.

Voldemort? Smiling? That doesn’t belong in the same sentence!

____________________________________

Delphini couldn’t fight the smile that stretched across her face from ear to ear, didn’t want too.

Harry is here!

Harry is here with her, with Voldemort, together. It’s everything she’s ever wanted and more.

He’s just as wonderful now as he was in the future, he looks at her with kind green eyes, and gives her butterfly kisses.

He’s perfect.

A small voice in the back of her head keeps telling her that this is too easy, everything is falling in line too perfectly.

Delphini didn’t even know Harry’s great aunt was Bellatrix’s grandmother, (not that she’s complaining) it clearly worked in her favor.

But still...

Delphini rests her head on Harry’s shoulder as he carries her to bed, her father not even a breath away from them with a guiding hand on Harry’s back.

Much to his dismay of course.

“Can you please stop touching me!” Harry snaps, burying his nose in Delphini’s hair to hide the blush dusting across his cheeks.

“My hand is hardly grazing your skin.”

“That-you, it’s...”

“Harry, please use actual sentences, I’d hate for our daughter to pick up that habit.”

“Just stop talking to me.”

‘Know what, I’m not surprised.’ Delphini thinks tiredly. ‘I can’t believe they need my help at all.’

Now all she has to worry about is her incubator interfering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort: this is our daughter.
> 
> Harry:👁👄👁


	4. Chapter 4

_Delphini tried to stifle her tears, tried to ignore how her chest aches and knee stung from tripping— no not tripping, she didn't trip._

_Someone pushed her._

_But Delphini couldn't do anything about that, she couldn't even cry because Rowle says it's a sign of weakness._

_Only pathetic weak-minded children cry._

_Delphini isn't pathetic or weak-minded, but sometimes... sometimes she wants to be._

_Sometimes she wants to be cuddled and pacified, sometimes... sometimes Delphini wants to be loved._

_But love isn't attainable for her, everyone that loved her already died._

_Or maybe they didn't love her at all, maybe death was an escape route._

_It doesn't matter, love is a weakness. That's what Rowle always says and Delphini isn't weak. She isn't allowed to be_

_So in her moment of frailty, Delphini crawls under a random crate in Diagon ally. Hiding from Rowle and that strange woman that was scowling at her._

_She bit her lip, choking back tears._

_Delphini wonders if her parents would have comforted her like she saw other parents do with their children, she wonders if strangers would still sneer in her direction with their nose turned up_

_If her parents were still alive..._

_What was it about Delphini that people didn't like?_

_The little girl squeezed her stuff white rabbit tighter, it's dirty from being trampled on but that hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things._

_It hardly matters if it was old and raggedy, she's had it as long as Delphini can remember._

_It's the only thing that has stayed by her, and on some days Delphini thinks it's the only thing that truly cares for her._

_It's stupid, she knows it's a lifeless object._

_She knows it's just wool and stuffing._

_But... Nivens lets her cry and doesn't say mean things to her._

_It can't._

_But Delphini likes to think it wouldn't even if it could._

_"Are you alright?"_

_It was at that moment Delphini looked up and met pretty kind green eyes, he crouched down searching her body for any physical wounds._

_This stranger regards her with worry and gentleness, something her own guardian doesn't do._

_It was fate._

_Harry took her hand – Helping the little girl stand, and he smiles at her... he smiles at her and that might seem insignificant but nobody ever smiles at her, nobody looks at her with the warmth._

_It made Delphini feel light and fluffy._

_It made her feel warm like she was sitting next to a fireplace after playing in the snow._

_Harry cleans off Nivens, restoring the white bunny to its former glory._

_He wiped away her tears after reassuring her that it's okay to cry._

_And he scolds the woman who pushed her._

_"What type of sicko enjoys harassing children?"_

**And that was it – I was lovesick.**

____________________________________

Being reunited with Harry was everything, she missed being in his arms, she missed the way he smiles at her, and how he indulges in her childish fantasies.

It was nice not having so share him or fight for his attention, Teddy always made it a battle. Always tried to one-up her.

He was a worthy opponent...

Petty and quick-witted.

A part of Delphini is surprise he wasn't a Slytherin.

But Teddy isn't here, It's just her and if she so desired Harry's attention it was easily gained.

All it took was a tug on his pant leg or a simple call of his name and Harry would come running to her.

But that doesn’t matter, at this moment she wants Harry's attention fully on Voldemort.

She wants them to bask in each other presence, to fall in love right then and there.

It won't be that easy of course, it was just wishful thinking on her part. But as they walk closer to her bedroom (A room decorated in soft creams and lavender with Rococo style furniture as well as tasteful use of heavy fabrics and delicate white lace.)

Delphini couldn't help but wonder if there was a way to speed this process along.

She glances at her parents for inspiration, willing her brain to think of something, and wasn't disappointed in the slightest when a brilliant idea came to mind.

"Can Delphini sleep with Mama and Papa tonight?" Delphini asked in the most innocent voice she can muster. She batts her eyelashes at the pair, and usually just that alone gets her perfect Harry to melt on the spot.

It's how she used to get future-Harry to give her sweets before dinner.

It's unlikely they'll sleep in the same room without her, but maybe... if she sleeps with for a week or two they would naturally want to sleep together?

Habits are hard to break after all.

Harry awkwardly glances at Voldemort, confection clear on his face. He wants to say yes, but he also doesn’t want to sleep in the same room as the dark lord.

Her father took that as his cue to lead the conversation "Of course." He says much to Harry's utter disbelief.

Really, Harry was so easy to read. He always wears his heart on his sleeve, his emotions on display for the world to see.

It’s one of his charming qualities.

Harry is probably horrified at the thought of sharing a bed with his parent's murder, probably would rather sleep in the dungeon then anywhere near Voldemort.

Oh well, he'll get over it eventually.

They walked passed her room, down the hall to the left, until they approach a set of heavily carved double doors.

"Subtle," Harry says dryly, rolling his eyes.

“Rather befitting of someone of my status, don’t you agree my little serpent?” Delphini nods her long curls bouncing with the motion.

“Papa is a king!” It never hurts to stroke her father’s ego a little bit.

____________________________________

Today just wasn't Harry's day.

First, he got kidnapped.

Then found out he somehow manages to reproduce with the dark lord, which is nightmare-inducing in itself. Like why would he ever want to sleep with Voldemort? Besides that fact that the man looks like a twisted snake/human hybrid, Voldemort has literally killed thousands and tortured millions.

Needless to say, Harry has a lot of questions to ask his future self.

And now because of his future daughter (who was really the only good outcome of this situation.), he's laying on the dark lord's luxurious bed, in nothing but the man's large button shirt (that fits him more like a nightgown, yet another reminder of how vertically challenged he is!)

All because the Malfoy's didn't give him time to pack for his extended stay.

So really this was their fault, fuck em.

Wonderful.

And to make matters worse he's blushing, Harry knows he's blushing his face is warm and he can feel whenever Voldemort eyes flicker over to him.

Merlin, this is humiliating. It was worse than being gawked at by the entire student body or reading an outlandish article about himself on the morning paper.

He felt exposed in front of his enemy, bare like one of those renaissance paintings.

It’s too much.

All Harry wants to do is crawl beneath the covers and hide, but the teen would rather be damned before he lets Voldemort know how overwhelmed he feels.

"Mama sleep in the middle?" Delphini asks in a voice like honey, her eyes twinkle while she pats the spot between her and Voldemort. (much to the dark lord's amusement.)

Her voice was so sweet, so endearing he almost said yes, until Harry realizes what that entitles.

"Mama likes sleeping on the end."

She huffs childishly as Harry gently nudges her in the middle.

"But Mama always sleeps next to Papa!"

Maybe Harry lost his mind, maybe Voldemort tortured Harry until he becomes a raving lunatic and developed Stockholm syndrome.

What other explanation is there?

"Papa, don't you want to sleep next to Mama?"

Voldemort smiles at the little girl, something about it was all-knowing, like he was in on a secret that Harry wasn't.

The snake-like man slowly brushes Delphini's bangs out of her eyes. "I do," Voldemort replies without missing a beat, making Harry's insides squirm unpleasantly.

**Stab me, someone please stab me.**

"But, Harry wants to sleep on the end tonight... Delphini If I didn't know any better I'd think you don't like sleeping next to me."

Delphini pouts. "I never said that."

"It was implied."

And like a flick of a light switch, Delphini was singing a different tune. She cuddles her father, glowing with childlike innocence "because Delphini loves Mama and Papa so much she wants to sleep in the middle tonight."

And if that wasn't the cutest thing Harry doesn't know what is.

It was worth all this awkwardness if it meant Delphini is happy.

Besides it’s only for tonight, there’s no point making a big deal out of it. Anyway, Voldemort probably doesn’t even care, why would he? It’s just a shirt, Harry is just being overdramatic and sensitive. 

Really, He’s acting like a blushing virgin over what exactly? Sleeping in the man’s shirt? He borrows Ron’s shirts all the time. Sharing a bed with him? Again it’s not unusual for him, Ron, and Hermione to fall asleep together, especially if they were up late doing homework. Besides, their daughter—

Harry felt his skin heat up, heart skip beats like it’s playing hopscotch.

Their daughter, a person they supposedly made together.

Yep, that was the root of his awkward teen bashfulness. Harry is sharing a bed with a person he might... maybe... could possibly have sex within the nearby future.

(Pull yourself together Harry!)

The-boy-who-lived finally climbs into bed, making himself comfy next to the pair.

Harry observer the room, trying to steady his rapidly beating heart. Lord Voldemort's bedroom was exactly like one would imagine a dark lord's chambers would be. You know, if you actually believed Voldemort was human enough to need something so mundane like sleeping.

Extravagant, dark, and just a tad bit gaudy. The room is garnished in Slytherin greens and black, the crown moldings reminding Harry of french gothic architecture.

He had to wonder if Voldemort decorated the room himself, if this was his style choice or if the Malfoy's was just over the top with everything they do.

“Goodnight,” Delphini whispers loudly.

"Goodnight Delphini." Harry whispers, he gives her a quick kiss on the cheek and was rewarded with a happy sigh from the young girl.

Voldemort mimicked his actions a lot more gracefully, placing a lingering kiss on her forehead. he watches as Delphini blinks up at the snake-like man with droopy eyes, and a tired smile, completely unafraid.

A normal child would shriek at the sight of Voldemort, both magical and muggle children alike.

But Delphini wasn’t a normal little girl.

‘She must get that from me.” Harry thinks with a weary smile.

“Papa, don’t forget to give Mama a kiss.” Maybe she doesn’t realize their not together...

Maybe his life was a joke to some higher being, that would explain the painfully uncomfortable and seemingly random dangerous turn of events life keeps throwing at him.

Harry and Voldemort glance at each, red meeting green. Voldemort had a sly mirthful grin on his snake-like face. Like he finds this whole situation amusing like if Harry doesn’t think of an excuse quickly he would actually lean over and kiss him.

Panic flutters in his stomach as Harry violently coughs, like he’s choking, or had bronchitis, or something.

He really can’t handle the idea of Voldemort feeling anything other than murderous intent.

Delphini gaps at him, her mother, completely mystified.

“I can’t kiss... your Papa... I have a chest cold.” The teen says lamely. Delphini stares at him dryly, the looks were comical on her young face.

It was a pathetic excuse, after all even Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would give each-other quick kisses when they were unwell, but it was an excuse nonetheless.

____________________________________

Voldemort awoke well before the sun did, the moon still hangs above the sky, and the sounds of crickets singing in the distance fills the air.

For once his mind didn’t immediately drift to the war or fantasize about all the different ways he could kill Harry.

He was content at the moment, satisfied with the simplicity of laying with his... family.

Family. The word was foreign to him, Voldemort didn’t know the first thing about having a family. Didn’t know the first thing about being a father, or a... partner?

_“But Mama always sleep next to Papa!”_

Fatherhood came relatively easy for Voldemort, Delphini is a dolce child. Though her curiosity had the tendency to get her in trouble, Delphini is quick to obey and under closer inspection, she was rather mature for her age.

It was hidden under Delphini’s cutesy speech, beneath all her curls and ribbons.

Yes, At first glance Delphini seems like a normal innocent little girl, but Voldemort suspects the child knows more then she lets on. That underneath all her clueless behavior is a sharp mind.

So much like her father.

Fatherhood came easy to Voldemort. He found enjoyment in spending time with her and watching her learn about the world with wide eyes.

But then there’s Harry.

His mind drifts to Harry like it always does, one way or another the-boy-who-lives invades his mind. Filling it until there’s nothing but Harry. Harry. Harry.

_“But Mama always sleep next to Papa!”_

Voldemort wonders what the nature of their relationship is, if it was rooted in pleasure or if against all odds feelings manifested.

He doesn’t know what the nature of their future relationship, Voldemort has never had a prominent lover before.

Tom Riddle was no stranger to sexual relationships, but that’s all it ever was. Sex. There were no feelings attached, no relationship.

No children involved.

But, Harry has always been the exception. It wouldn’t surprise Voldemort if— The bed whines under shifting weight, the dark lord can faintly hear soft grumbling coming from beside him. Annoyed and drowsy was the only way to describe the hushed voice. He looks towards his daughter, wondering what she could possibly be up too so early in the morning, and felt a small smirk tug on his lips at the sight. 

Delphini is peculiar, she does the oddest things from time to time that makes the dark lord think ‘She must get that from her mother.’

Delphini was on the other side of Harry, trying to push the boy-who-lived towards the center of the bed.

Next to Voldemort.

“Delphini,” the child’s posture stiffens, her head snaps up with a bashful expression. Caught. “What are you doing?”

“Delphini is sweaty.” She says like that explains everything, though the man supposed to her it probably does. Summoning all of her strength Delphini gives the boy one final push, Voldemort pulls Harry closer so she has enough room to lay down without falling off the bed.

Voldemort has no doubts that she doing this on purpose.

The dark lord takes this chance to study Harry, admiring how his long dark lash fan against his creamy skin. His eyes flicker up to the scar just barely hiding beneath Harry’s ebony locks.

There’s a familiar pull that beckons him, enticing him, like the cursed scar was just begging for Voldemort to touch it.

Voldemort wants to touch it.

The scar fascinates, capturing his attention in a way that was so recognizable but unknown, the answer just out of reach.

He did that, he put that there. A mark from a killing curse, a sign from fate announcing Harry as his equal.

The-boy-who-lived, the youngest Seeker in a century,the youngest Triwizard champion.

Harry has always been the exception.

Voldemort could see it, like a movie playing before his eyes. Harry doing the impossible, breaking down every wall the dark lord built like a wild storm bringing mass distraction. Harry igniting emotions Voldemort didn’t even know he had.

Voldemort can imagine his world beginning and end with Harry.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry woke up that morning feeling incredibly sweaty.

There’s warmth on both sides, wrapped around, and underneath him. Trapping him in what felt like a cocoon set on fire.

Why is it so hot?

To his left was Delphini, snuggled against him, clenching his arm in a surprising death-like grip.

And to his right was...

Oh. My. Merlin.

Harry refused to look, his face flushes an uncomfortable bright color. Heart pounding like the teen just ran a marathon.

Why? How?

Harry doesn’t understand why the strangest stuff only happens to him.

He doesn’t know how he managed to wiggle his way into the middle.

‘I fell asleep on the end, I know I did.’ Harry thinks as hysteria starts bubbling in his stomach.

Harry looks down at the arm wrapped around his torso, weighing him down, and if it was anybody else... holding the-boy-who-lived quite comfortably.

What has the world come to...

Harry tries to escape Voldemort’s grip, gently, the last thing he wants is for the dark lord to wake up with the-boy-who-lived in his arms.

It’s already awkward for him, there’s no need to make it awkward for the both of them.

But of course, like everything is, that was proving to be a challenge.

There were three things Harry learned about Voldemort in this instant.

1\. The snake-like man is heavier than he appears.

Honestly, for a person who looks like they’d blow away if the wind was too strong, Voldemort was surprisingly sturdy.

2\. Voldemort likes to _cuddle_.

Voldemort, the dark lord, someone so evil so feared the general population can’t even say his name. Likes. Too. Cuddle.

And was extremely clingy to boot.

Harry was moments away from breaking free when Voldemort pulls the teen closer, nuzzling his flat nose into Harry’s unruly hair.

* insert internal screaming.*

3\. Voldemort didn’t smell like blood and death like Harry always imagined.

Not that he ever really gave it any thought, but if you were to ask Harry what he thinks Voldemort smelt like his first answer would be.

A corpse.

But no, the man’s scent reminds Harry of the Hogwarts library, of jasmine tea, and... _honey_.

Harry tilts his head, working up the nerve to look at the snake-like man.

He’s sleeping. Like a human would. The dark lord’s breaths slow and steady, peaceful.

Has he ever seen Voldemort look so peaceful?

Has he ever been this close to the man? So close, to the point Harry that can count his individual eyelashes.

That’s another thing Harry learned today.

Voldemort does in fact have eyelashes. His lashes are white, so white their almost translucent.

But eyelashes nonetheless.

For a moment Harry does nothing but stare at Voldemort as the fear of reality sets in.

Fear that this is his future, fear that this is a normal occurrence, that he wakes up every morning like this next to his parent's murder.

Digging up his biggest fear, one that he kept locked away in the darkest corner of his mind since finding out about their daughter.

Harry’s afraid of liking this.

It was so real, Delphini is a reminder that one of these days he’s going to cha-cha real smooth out of his friend's life and run into Voldemort’s arms.

And while Harry is mature enough to admit he looks the feeling of Voldemort wrapped around him, he’s afraid one of these days he’ll yearn for it.

“Good Godrick,” Harry whispers in horror as the teen imagines a life where he’s Voldemort housewife.

Harry would have nothing against being a stay at home dad... or mom in this case? But, there was something about being the dark lord’s trophy wife that leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

The-boy-who-lives looks at Voldemort before glancing at their daughter, back to the man again.

Then Harry promptly screams, loud and high pitched.

Scaring the shit out of his bedmates.

__________________________

Delphini rubs her eyes as the trio makes their way to the dining room.

She’s unbelievably tired, and could of went without Harry’s wake up call. But the girl is glad she was able to witness Harry’s blushing face as he had a mental breakdown in Voldemort’s arms.

So far, she considers operation G.H.P.T.S.T a success.

If Delphini plays the game right, she might be able to get them jumping into each other’s bed by the end of the week.

No-no.

Delphini shakes her head, chastising herself for being so eager.

_Through patience, great things are accomplished._

It’s hard to decipher where to push and what to leave alone. She wonders if she’s doing enough... if she’s doing too much.

But if her father taught Delphini anything, it’s to use a delicate hand.

“Must you scream like a banshee so early in the morning?” Her father asked in a drawling voice.

Harry gawks inelegantly, words seemingly failing him.“I— You!” He huffs, tugging at his inky hair restlessly.

Delphini and Voldemort privately glance at one another, sharing wary looks, probably wondering the same thing.

Is Harry going to have another mental relapse?

Not that it isn’t well deserved, but two within an hour is concerning.

Her heart tightens at the sight.

Delphini remembers how Harry would squeeze her hand comfortingly, how he just knew when Delphini wasn’t feeling like herself.

He’d use to take her aside, no matter where they were or who they were with, and asked if she needed a moment to cry.

Delphini remembers how much better she felt after letting it all out when she was able to cry away from prying eyes, with no one but Harry holding her until she felt better.

Until she was herself again.

That’s one of the things Delphini loves about Harry, his kindness as vast as the ocean, his keen eyes, and soothing touches.

She might not be as good at it as Harry, but Delphini wants to comfort him like he always does for her.

Like he would if she was in this predicament.

She reaches out, grabbing his soft hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

And he...

He smiles at her, a smile future Harry used to give Delphini all the time. It’s kind and loving, making her insides feel warm and fuzzy. Safe.

“Does Mama need a moment to cry?” Delphini ask with wide worrying eyes.

Harry lets out a watery laugh, he picks her up, twirling the little girl until Delphini could help but giggle in delight.

“I’m fine sweetie, I just...” Harry says, carefully settling her on the ground. He glances at Voldemort, awkwardly shifting on his feet. “I have a few questions.”

“Go on.”

“When is Delphini born?” Delphini stiffens, surprised by the turn of conversation.

“June 30, 1997.” Voldemort answers without skipping a beat.

Harry squints his eyes, mind reeling. “Do you know this means?”

Voldemort raises his nonexistent eyebrow in question, while his face remains skillfully blank.

“By some strange turn of events you're going to impregnate me in four months... and I’m a teen mom,” Harry adds as an afterthought.

Delphini blanch, wishing she made up a random birth date.

Four months.

Is that enough time?

She didn’t realize... it all was happening so fast when put into perspective.

This was it. The glaring flaw in her grand plan. If only she did the math, if only, if only.

So much for playing the long game.

“How does that even work out, I’m supposed to be at Hogwarts during that time? And- and what even is our relationship in the future? Why is Delphini here? How long is she staying?”

With each question, Harry asks Delphini feels her heart pull some impossible stunt.

Shit- shit- shit- shit- shit- shit!

Her mind was blank, Delphini doesn’t think she could think of an answer to any of these questions.

She feels sourly unprepared.

“I have a few theories,” Voldemort says, giving Harry a once over. “But, I’m afraid nothing can be confirmed until Bellatrix returns.”

Bellatrix? What does her incubator have to do with any of this?

For a second Delphini imagines everything she’s hoped for, everything she’s worked to achieve ripped away from her.

She wants to scream.

Papa, I’m doing this for you too! Don’t mess it up!

Delphini grip tightens, squeezing Harry’s hand with a lot more force.

“Papa, Mama, Delphini is hungry!”

____________________________

Petunia Dursley is perfectly normal, thank you very much!

She goes about her day like she normally would, cooking meals for her family, tending to the garden, spying on her neighbors.

But she can’t help but notice something was bluntly missing,Something that’s been a thorn in her side since the day he arrived on her doorstep.

It didn’t take long for Petunia to notice her nephew's absence.

Thirty minutes max.

Petunia hardly ever lets the boy run errands, not only does she not trust him with money, but Petunia wasn’t hateful enough to let the boy run amuck when one of those freaks are trying to kill him.

She knew deep down that it wasn’t a good idea to let the boy go.

Call it a gut feeling or woman’s intuition, but the moment she seen her nephew walk out the door she knew they wouldn’t be seeing him again.

“Good riddance.” Her husband said.

“He’ll come back eventually,” Dudley adds off-handedly.

Both were right, of course. The boy probably ran off with those redheads again. But, she couldn’t shake the forbidding feeling coiling in her stomach.

That was the only reason she wrote the letter. That was the only reason she let the boy’s owl loose in the day time when normal people like herself can see it.

He’s probably with those friends again, but, on the off chance something did happen to him at least Petunia played her part and informed Dumbledore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you’s miss me ??*Insert eyebrow wiggle*😂#stillliving


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t get this chapter to flow right for nothing, so this chapter might be a little more choppy then usual.😅

Severus reads the letter, then promptly rereads it three more times just to be sure. Because surely this isn't right.

_The boy is missing- Petunia Dursley_

This can't be.

"Do you know anything about this?" Dumbledore asks grimly, his eyes lack the usual twinkle, empty and exhausted.

"No, surely if the Dark Lord had the boy in his custody he would have mentioned it."

Unless...

"Unless he realized where my loyalties lay." Severus drawls, mind racing.

He hasn't heard anything from the dark lord since their last meeting when that strange surge of magic broke through Malfoy's wards.

"Are you sure Potter didn't just run off with his little friends?"

The old headmaster nods. "I've already contacted Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger. Neither has heard from Harry in a week."

Severus taps his fingers against the wooden arm of his chair.

It didn't make anything sense, why was he still alive? If Voldemort knew he was a trader the dark lord would have killed him by now.

"I have some digging to do." Severus walked out of the office without another word.

Something was going on, something big, and Severus wasn't used to being left in the dark.

He needs to tread lightly, it wouldn't do to rise suspension.

If Voldemort really is questioning his loyalty one wrong move could be the end of Severus.

____________________________________

Delphini chews the end of her feathered quill, glaring at the empty parchment paper.

Everyday, without fail, Delphini takes thirty minute a nap around.

Not that she really needs a nap, but it's nice to have a moment to herself. Even better now that she has to out strategize her own damn father.

"What are you thinking?" She mumbles, feeling like an absolute lunatic.

It was impossible to know what Voldemort is truly thinking, her father had perfect control of his facial expressions, body language, and occlumency. Any theory she could come up with would just be speculation. A possibility.

It was driving her absolutely mad.

_Focus Delphi._

_F o c u s._

The little girl takes a deep breath, attempting to calm her nerves. "Let's start with the basics."

_My main fear is father finding out Bellatrix is my **mother**._

There's no telling what he'd do with that knowledge, how he would handle it.

What scares her the most is how easy it would be for him to find out. All it would take is a simple spell, a flick of a wand.

_Why hasn't he done that? Isn't dad being a little too trusting?_

It doesn't make any sense. Luckily for her, she can use this mistake to her advantage.

"There has to be a way to tamper with paternity spells." Delphini mumbles.

The easiest solution would be the blood-adoption potion, but that may result in Delphini's appearance to change.

_Harry's features are lovely, but It would be hella sus if I wake up one morning with black hair or green eyes._

The brewing process is tedious anyway, it takes months of constant attention, careful strewing, and Delphini just don't have the time for that.

Bellatrix could come back any day now, at any second.

_She could be here right now!_

The thought was horrifying. Her dad and the incubator could be together right now. In the same room.

By themselves...

Alone.

Delphini slams her hands against the desk, jumping off her chair and out of the room faster than Harry playing a quidditch match.

Her footsteps echo against the cold marble floor, disrupting sleeping portraits. The painting of Virgo Malfoy looked disrated by Delphini running rampant through her ancestral home.

She probably looks like a wild-unclothed child. Manners? Grace? We don't know her. Not when her father could be falling prey to Bellatrix's schemes as we speak.

_I'll save you, Papa!_

Delphini slams the study door open, practically blowing it off his hinges. (Not really, but Delphini inherited Voldemort's flair for dramatics and Harry's over-exaggerated personality.)

"Papa!" Delphini shrieks tiredly, huffing to catch her breath.

Voldemort glances at her from where he stood, by the massive window that overlooks the garden. His head tilts, a worried frown gracing his lips.

"What's the matter, child?"

Delphini's eyes dart around the study, looking for that mob of wild brown curls that Bellatrix has the audacity to call a hairstyle and wear in public.

The room is big, fitting for a Dark Lord. It made Delphini wonder if the Malfoy's have a history of housing Dark Lord's. The walls lined with antique wood paneling with books, ancient scrolls, and magical artifacts long forgotten by society neatly tucked into the shelves. A sitting area across from the heavily carved oak desk, and besides Nagini curled up in front of a fireplace her father was by himself.

_She isn't here. He's alone. Good._

Delphini throws herself at Voldemort, arms warp around his legs tightly. "Delphini missed you!"

"You just saw me twenty minutes ago," Voldemort adds, an amused smirk forming on his thin lips.

The little girl's smile strains. _Why can't you just accept my cuteness!_ "Twenty minutes is a long time."

Voldemort hums thoughtfully, not fully believing her but enjoying Delphini's antics nonetheless. The little girl held out her arms in a silent command to be picked up.

_Yes, I am cute. Not even you, the darkest Dark Lord of all time can withstand my adorableness._

Delphini quickly wraps her arm around his neck, nuzzling her face into Voldemort's shoulder.

Contrary to popular beliefs, her father gives the best hugs. He doesn't squeeze her snuggly or shower her with kisses as Harry does, but his hold is an odd mixture of gentle and firm. The way he cradles her head and rubs soothing patterns in Delphini's back makes her feel safe, treasured.

"Delphini."

"Yes, Papa?"

"Can I ask you a few questions?" Delphini stiffens, heartbeats wildly in her chest.

How many more questions can she answer? Knowing too much is suspicious but not knowing enough is also suspicious. She feels so transparent like he could see every secret Delphini has kept close to her chest.

What exactly does he know?

"Can Delphini have cake?" She beams at him, eyes sparkling at the prospect of sweets and possibly dodging this interrogation entirely.

Voldemort glances at the elegant grandfather clock in the corner of the room. "Harry doesn't approve of you having snacks so close to supper."

"What Mama doesn't know won't hurt him."

A grin slowly spreads across his face, it seemed so genuine, so real. Delphini can't fathom why people would call her father heartless, emotionless, he might have the appearance of a monster but Voldemort is human just like everyone else.

Would a monster look at her like that?

"You make a compelling case."

Voldemort snaps his fingers, summoning teacups and platters of sweet-smelling French pastries. Her Father sat Delphini down, pushing in her chair like a gentleman.

Delphini’s cup was filled with warm milk and honey, and a pettifour was already waiting on her plate. Which is her favorite dessert of all time, but of course Voldemort already knew that. He remembers all her little quirks and favorite things so easily. It’s like he’s known Delphini her whole life.

It’s stupid, it shouldn’t mean much, it shouldn’t be a big deal. But it does. It meant the world to her. Everything she ever imagined her father being, All her daydreams, and wondering could never compare to the real thing.

Delphini’s father was everything she imagined him, yet completely different at the same time.

Delphini notices Voldemort looking out the window again, her father didn’t appear to be in a daze, but he didn’t look entirely present either.

The little girl’s eyes wandered outside. The garden is stunning, today the theme is white. Every flower, muggle and magical alike is dyed all different shades of white and cream.

Amid the flowers, following closely behind Narcissa is Harry. He’s carrying a homemade bouquet of white dahlias and stray petals are sticking to his hair.

There’s a story there somewhere, but Delphini is more curious about what they could be talking about. Narcissa is okay, she isn’t goofy like her husband or bratty like Draco, but the lady of the house seemed rather boring.

_I guess one of them has to be sensible._

suddenly Harry stops mid-step like there’s a magnetic pull tying her father and Harry together the teen looks up. Meeting Voldemort's eyes with frightening accuracy.

Like he just knew where Voldemort was at.

Like he can feel him, sense his presence, hear his thoughts.

The teen noticeably flushes, his expression reminding Delphini of a deer caught in headlights, before huffing like he has any sense of dignity and stomping away.

_Why is Harry acting like a tsundere?_

Honestly, Delphini expected this behavior out of Voldemort, not Harry. What an odd turn of events.

“About those questions—“Yum! Delphini’s cake is super yummy!”

____________________________________

Bellatrix admired the gold locket, her brown eyes widen in excitement, greed, and madness worthy of the Black name. After all these centuries it was still in pristine condition, of course, it was, her Lord took care of things that hold value to him.

Value.

Perhaps, she too could be considered valuable to him one day. Valuable in a way other Death Eaters would never dare dream of.

After all this time, out of everything she’s done for her Lord this has to be by far the most important mission he has ever given her.

It required someone with a keen eye, powerful magic, and unwavering loyalty.

And who is more loyal to Lord Voldemort than Bellatrix Lestrange?

Who would move mountains and concur lands for this man other than Bellatrix Lestrange? All Voldemort needed to do is ask and his most faithful follower would do it. No questions ask. No obstacles. No hesitation. She will slaughter all those who stand in her way, and mangle anyone who dares steps in his.

“Kreacher, I don’t have to stress the importance of our meeting being secret, do I?” Bellatrix drawls, her eyes not once leaving the gleaming green gems embezzled in the locket, shaped in a snake-like S.

It took a lot longer to complete the task than she expected, then she would have liked. But Lord Voldemort trusted her with this mission, knew she’d complete it without fail. No matter how long it took Belle would not return until all of the objects were found.

Unlike her brother in law, Bellatrix doesn’t come back empty-handed with a haft finished job. That’s why she’s the favorite. That’s why Lord Voldemort cherishes her, trusts her enough to handle such a delicate task.

It’s why he gave her such an intimate mission.

“Of course not my lady, I’ll never speak of this to anyone. Not a soul!” The old filthy creature wails, bowing in submission, tugging at the hem of her garments like a beggar.

Is this what it’s like? Is this how her Lord feels when swine fall at his feet, kissing the hem of his robes, hoping to be smiled upon by him?

Worthless. They’re all worthless besides her. Because only Bellatrix is irreplaceable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter summery: Bellatrix makes her debut and simultaneously gets one up by a little girl in ruffles and bows😂💁♀️


End file.
